


Resolve

by ephemeraline



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Dongpyo-centric, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kinda, This Is Sad, x1 being supportive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 03:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21190958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraline/pseuds/ephemeraline
Summary: So, he keeps quiet, because as much as he insists he doesn’t have a problem, something tells him that whining about calories like he really wants to will get him too carried away, allow some of that hysteria slip out, make him appear a tad more desperate than the average dieter. Except heisan average dieter. Lots of people want to lose weight. It’s normal. He’s normal.





	Resolve

**Author's Note:**

> This is set as canon compliant but in no way is this an accurate representation in any way of any real life events or people and i hope with all my heart that dongpyo is happy and healthy!!

He never mentions the weight. Never mentions any want to lose weight, knowledge of the calories in that muffin, working out, being hungry, being full. None of it is associated with him. It’s too suspicious, despite the normalcy surrounding losing weight for a debut. And making it in the entertainment industry as a whole. They say he’s already tiny and cute, doesn’t need to lose anything, just maintain, but he wants to prove himself, and he doesn’t really like how he looks anyway. Kind of flat out hates his appearance, actually. 

So, he keeps quiet, because as much as he insists he doesn’t have a problem, something tells him that whining about calories like he really wants to will get him too carried away, allow some of that hysteria slip out, make him appear a tad more desperate than the average dieter. Except he _is_ an average dieter. Lots of people want to lose weight. It’s normal. He’s normal. 

But in the quiet of his own room at midnight he can finally say it is all of his identity. 

He doesn’t remember what it feels like to not think about food every other minute. How strange is it that some people don’t feel uncomfortable in their bodies? Not when addressing friends and strangers alike, not when walking down the street, not when simply sitting down. It must be amazing. Dongpyo- is perpetually uncomfortable. He feels heavy, and it’s a disgusting feeling. He feels the strain of his clothing and knows how it must look horrendously unflattering, feels the material of his jeans rubbing together with his every step, feels the fat on his stomach obnoxiously trying to escape the waistband of his pants when he bends. And when he doesn’t, too. God, it’s so off putting. Ruins his entire day. Practically renders his own existence in its entirety insufferable. If only he could live comfortably. It’s a strange concept, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever truly grasp it. How are they not hyper aware of every. single. part of their body? All the time? Because he is. His thighs, most of all. And his upper arms. And his _stomach_. The fat under his chin. The fat on his cheeks that become even more apparent when he smiles a certain way. His fingers. (Sometimes Dongpyo studies them and berates himself. He’s being ridiculous. They’re just fingers for fucks sake. But they’re so fat).The frustration that is the uneven way his body distributes fat. Like how his torso will be small, stick thin, from the side (at a specific angle, at a very specific time of the day, after a specific calorie intake over the course of four- no, five, six, seven, eight days if there was no binging prior to that), but fat fat fat from the front (and every other angle, always always always). Like how his calves look small and dainty, just like his wrists, but his upper legs are disgustingly large. 

How embarrassing. It messes everything up. It interferes with everything. Zaps away the joy of living in the moment, makes it harder to be completely present and have fun with his brothers and fans _(fans, they’re going to have fans, they already have fans, they’ve made it, they’ve made it, he’s finally making his debut, his dreams are finally coming tr- what if they don’t like him because he’s fat?)_. It’s even worse because he’s a dancer. Becoming one with the music is impossible, because it’s impossible to ignore the heaviness that doesn’t feel right in the midst of a light step here and a graceful sweep there. In the mirror, the choreo doesn’t look as effortless and dainty as it appeared in his head. 

It’s fine. At least some parts of him aren’t ugly. He can just hide the bad parts - the rotten parts waiting to be disposed of - with oversized hoodies. His holy grail. They make him actually look tiny and cute and skinny and delicate. Safe. Those are the only times he can look at himself without wanting to throw up. Literally. With two fingers down his throat. If he wasn’t such a fucking baby and too scared of the consequences of being bulimic. 

He wasn’t before. Scared, that is. But he’s actually much better compared to two years ago. And he actually wants to live more than one year ago. Purging is a last resort now. It’s been a while, he hates vomiting his guts out with a passion, and so with his newfound relapse that seems more just like his muffled thoughts are getting clearer once again rather than reappearing, he figures he’s enough of a veteran to starve properly from now on. He knows the rookie mistakes. He’ll do a better job this time. 

There’s no choice, really. The stage lighting is unforgiving. The towering screens behind them broadcast every detail, every flaw, even to the furthest seats. The cameras are widening. The eyes are like those of hawks. 

The stage outfits. They are made for attractive people, not to make people look attractive. But Dongpyo thrives during _like always_ stages, the oversized sweaters and cutesy concept accentuating his small frame. If only he looked small all the time. 

It’s easy to pretend starving isn’t that bad, because it’s probably not going to _kill_ him. Not like a ruptured esophagus, damaged organs and broken blood vessels. Not as deadly or concerning as, say, an addiction. To - drugs. Or something. Those are things to worry over. Starving.. isn’t an addiction, is it? It’s not, right? Right. Yes. Addiction sounds scary. Or maybe it’s easier to ignore the possible heart diseases and osteoporosis when you’re a starver convinced you’re not good enough at starving to die from it. It’s not anorexia. Anorexia means sick. He’s not sick. Just wants to lose a little weight, is all.

It’s not that big of a deal, to be honest. It’s just a goal. Everyone has goals in life. This one just happens to be really, _really_ important to him. 

People online say that if you don’t think your body right now is enough, your body at your goal weight won’t be enough either. It’ll never be enough. But he thinks he’d be a lot happier 10lbs lighter. Or more. Probably more. 

He knows he’s not obese. But obese and fat are two different things. Because he’s not skinny. At least, not the _skinny_ skinny that he wants to be. So, no, he's not skinny. But he will be.

**Author's Note:**

> you are so loved :) have a wonderful day!


End file.
